The Forsaken Hero
I closed my eyes and let out a shuddering breath. My fingers were numb and cold, my arm aching where the needle pierced the vein. Something clattered onto the pavement, and I looked down to see the needle. It had slipped out of my hand. Nothingness swirled around me, bringing the first sense of peace I'd felt in my short, miserable life. There was no one to miss me, and no one I would miss. There's always someone else to beat or rape. The regulars would move on quickly. I died. Only...wasn't death supposed to be dark? And since when did 'nothingness' have so many gods? Discord: https://discord.gg/PX3xqJdZMY
At Ease in the Divine Throne
The banquet hall hadn't changed since I'd seen it. The stained glass panels in the vaulted ceilings allowed just enough sunlight through to dance on the beautiful mosaics painted across the tile floor. The rest of the light came from the grand chandeliers shining with thousands of light crystals, illuminating the ornately carved elongated tables that served as seating for the guests.
There were plenty of guests, perhaps fifty in total. The atmosphere was festive and lively, though contained within the pretentious auras of the nobles and clergy. The faces were all blurred, their features unimportant to me or the vision, save for the table resting on the raised dias below the space of royalty and the upper echelon of the church. Luke must have noticed them the same moment I did, for his soul quivered with anger even as I shrank back.